Love's Three-Sided Prison
by The Hark-ness monster
Summary: Cas loves Dean. Dean loves Sam. Sam loves Cas. It's only in their dreams that the ones they love feel the same... Who knew that so much love could create so little hope.


Love's Three-Sided Prison

Supernatural

A one-sided wincestiel fan fiction

_Castiel…_

Cas knew from the start that Dean would be the end of him. From those haunting green eyes, to his bright teeth set in a rare, genuine smile, to his commanding yet gentle voice, his strong hands and casual, laid-back manor. Dean _had_ Cas. There was no doubt about it. And Cas wasn't quite sure what to do with himself.

Everything he did was for Dean and Dean alone. Before he made the slightest decision, the first thing that crossed his mind was not how it would benefit himself, but how it would affect Dean, his hunter, the only one he ever lived for.

Before the Winchesters were born and Cas rarely even left heaven, he knew there was something missing, but he never vocalized this instinct, fearing it would be seen as insubordination. He'd spent an eternity like this, an immeasurable amount of time, and yet, he felt like his life had not begun until he laid that one graceful hand on Dean's shoulder in Hell.

The first time he smiled was at Dean. His first hug was from Dean. The first time he experienced the heart of his vessel skip a beat was when Dean shot him that bottomless green gaze.

Cas knew Dean was special from the moment he was conceived, but he had no idea that Dean would change _everything_. He'd never told Dean this, but Cas was there when Dean was born and every birthday since. He was there the night his mother was killed. He was there in those motel rooms the Winchester brothers had grown up in, watching over them while they slept. And he'd watched Dean's heart break when his brother died and seen his desperation when he'd gone to that crossroads demon to sell his soul for Sam's. Cas begged his superior angels to allow him to intervene.

"All in due time," they told him.

And indeed, his time had come. He rescued Dean from Hell and had not left his side since.

There had been tales in heaven about angels falling for the sake of a human. Castiel had not understood these stories until he met Dean. He'd thought they were myths and nothing more. Until he became one of them. And though he hadn't fallen literally, he would if Dean asked him. And he had fallen figuratively, that's for sure, as soon as Dean crawled out of that grave.

Cas was tired of watching Dean suffer. It was the most painful thing he'd ever had to endure. And secretly, Cas longed for when Dean would die. He'd ensure it was peaceful, of course. And when Dean's soul finally departed, Cas promised he'd be right by his side to follow him into the dark. Then they could both retire into heaven together and Cas could finally rest assured that Dean would never have another worry ever again.

When they go there, Cas promised himself that the first thing he would do was kiss Dean. No matter how nervous he got, no matter how many butterflies filled up his spirit, he would do it and finally show the hunter how he really felt and prove to Dean that he was worthy.

They'd finally walk together, hands clasped, through their brightest dreams of a perfect, carefree, spring day. And they'd lounge beneath a shady willow tree by a quiet brook. Gentle, content smiles would adorn their faces as they lay in each other's arms and whisper gentle, meaningless words carried on the breeze. They'd both stop every now and again and give the other a peck on the lips as a reminder of their innocent, tender love.

The grass would match Dean's eyes perfectly and the sky's Castiel's. Heaven would be the flawless horizon where the sky kissed the earth.

But deep down, Cas knew that Dean's heaven would never look like that. Still, he could not make himself stop dreaming of it.

_Dean…_

Dean always watched his brother so closely, so intently. Even the most trivial things, Dean knew how Sam did them, exactly, to the letter, and could recreate them perfectly in his mind. The way Sam brushed his teeth, and got dressed in the morning, and sipped his coffee, and, Dean's new favorite, how he ran his fingers through his hair when he got frustrated. Dean always watched as each hair fell delicately back into place after Sam's hand had shifted them. Sometimes he imagined his own hand entwined in those soft, brown locks.

Dean knew that he loved his brother more than he should. He accepted it. But that didn't make it any less painful when he watched his brother turn away from him.

Some days, he would wake up before Sam and lay there for hours just watching his brother sleep. He paid every bit of his attention to the way Sam's chest rose and fell, the calm, smoothness of his features and how he would occasionally shift and settle back into the mattress to have it conform to his every curve and angle.

It was moments like that when Dean's heart seemed to beat out of his chest and he wanted nothing more than to walk across the room and lie down next to his brother and be like the mattress, hugging Sam's muscular form. They'd done this when they were younger, fallen asleep together, but it had always been Dean who held Sam in his arms. He sighed into his pillow when he imagined what it would feel like to have his brother's strong arms hold him against his chest and whisper in his ear through soft, warm lips that everything was all right.

And though he'd seen what their life would be like without the demonic death of their mother, and how perfectly normal and extraordinarily _safe_ everything was, deep in his heart he knew he would never want to change a thing because this life is why he and his brother were so intimate. This life was why they could look into each other's eyes and _understand. _Dean loved those glances, even though it was painful to know he felt something more than Sam did.

The joy of his sad, miserable life was protecting his beloved brother. The only thing he lived for were those eyes of endless brown. As long as Sam's heart was beating, he knew his own could go on.

His entire life had been for Sam, about Sam. Protecting Sam, Sam, Sam. To the point where his brother was an inseparable part of his soul. Long ago, he'd given up the idea of thinking of Sam as _only_ his brother, as if he were nothing more. He'd only be lying to himself. No, Sam was much more than that to Dean. Sam was the one Dean loved, wholly and completely. The _only_ one. And no matter how bad things got, he knew that at least Sam would never leave. Without Sam, he would not go on. He'd tried it once. Even Hell could not compete with that kind of agony.

At least Dean knew that in the end, they'd go down together. And he'd hold Sam's hand and never, ever let it go.

But while they were alive, things went on as usual. One of them would be injured and the other would fix them with soft, gentle touches and warm, caring eyes. Dean had to admit, the pain of an injury meant nothing to him as long as Sam was there to fix him. When Sam touched him, his skin tingled.

And he wasn't sure if Sam ever noticed, but Dean _always_ fell asleep facing his brother.

_Sam…_

Sam sometimes dreamt of Castiel. The way his bright blue eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness was always one of the last things that passed through Sam's mind before he slept.

He dreamt he was not a hunter and Cas was no longer an angel. He'd wake up in his dream next to Castiel in the bed they shared in their dingy old apartment. The place was falling apart but they didn't care. As long as it kept them together it was perfect.

They slept on pure white sheets. Sam would always wake up first to look across them at his sleeping angel. He'd run a hand through Cas' dark hair or curl up against his back to gently draw his lover out of sleep and his breath was always taken away when he caught that first glimpse of deep blue when Cas' eyes fluttered open.

Not until their dog, Leah joined them on the bed would they actually be compelled to get up.

Sam would send Cas off to work with a kiss while he stayed back at the apartment and work on their piece-of-junk car or give the ramshackle cabinets a fresh coat of paint.

He'd take Leah to the park and meet Dean for drinks after lunch.

When Cas came home they went shopping together and held hands at the supermarket where they playfully argued about which paper towels to buy. They made dinner together and stared at each other across the small, wobbly table until one of them broke down and laughed.

Before settling down together in their nice, warm bed, they sat out on the balcony with a beer in their hands, pretending they could see the stars beyond the bright city lights.

When Sam slept, yes, that's when everything was perfect. Everything was normal. When he woke up, that's when the nightmares began.

While reality reigned, they weren't domestic, they were dangerous. They fought demons for a living. It was a dirty, nasty business. A life Sam knew he could never escape, much less _with_ Castiel, except for in his dreams. And every day, the only glimpse of those dreams he got, the only time he was reminded that life wasn't all bad, was when he was looking at Castiel. But most of the time, when Sam was looking at Cas, the angel was looking at Dean. And his dreams were shattered once again.

Cas was in love with Dean, Sam could tell. He recognized the spark in Castiel's eyes when he looked at Dean. It was the same spark Sam knew was in his eyes when he looked at Cas. He hoped that sooner or later, Cas would notice that spark.

Sam knew he had done nothing to deserve Cas, and still, he wished so much that Cas would choose him instead of Dean. What made him angry was that Dean had done nothing to deserve Cas either. Dean didn't give the angel anywhere near the amount of respect he knew Cas deserved. And sometimes he just wanted to kill his brother for it. He wanted to push Dean away and kiss Castiel right in front of him to make his claim and declare, "He's mine." But most of all he just wanted to see if Castiel's lips felt the way he imagined them.

And Sam still kept his habit of praying every day because even if he knew now that God didn't care, Sam knew that a miracle was the only hope for having Castiel care for him the way he dreamt he would. And he's seen just enough miracles, like the way Cas' eyes lit up when he smiled, to still believe in them.


End file.
